


Crash don't burn

by Selestiles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dean Winchester/Reader - Freeform, Dean is a dumbass who doesn't pay attention in biology, F/M, No Smut, Omega Reader, a/b/o dynamics, about 7 years, age gap, both are above age of consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 15:37:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18368966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selestiles/pseuds/Selestiles
Summary: You’re apparently a late bloomer.





	Crash don't burn

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in season one shortly after John disappeared. Before Dean went looking for Sam. Written in Dean’s POV. (This was supposed to be a drabble *laughs nervously*)

The first time Dean had seen you, he had fallen for you instantly. Of course, he had scoffed at himself later, but at that moment? Oh boy, he had practically crashed at your feet.

He had been sitting at the corner booth of a shitty diner with surprisingly good food, stubbornly ignoring the fact John hadn’t been back in too long.

He was tired, and probably stinky, if he was being perfectly honest. He had dark circles under his eyes and the mess of dirty plates and papers in front of him was impressive. He wasn’t a pretty sight, and he didn’t care.

Well, not until he saw you.

You were laughing, looking back like you had been talking to someone just outside the diner before coming in. You laughed to yourself quietly, shaking your head.

And Dean Winchester was a goner.

You were beautiful, like a small burst of happiness had decided to take human form.

He paused, his cup of now cold coffee halfway to his lips. His right hand slipped and the pen he was holding made a long line  of dark ink all over his notes.

“Maggie!” And Jesus, your voice was raw magic “How’s it going? How’s your day been?” You smiled brightly and skipped around the counter to hug the middle aged woman standing behind it.

“My goodness child, look at you, what’s got you in such a good mood” you whispered something in her ear, still smiling brightly, and the kind eyed beta burst out in laughter.

“Why you little troublemaker” she breathed, still laughing.

Dean tore his gaze from you just as you walked past him.

He caught a whiff of your scent and had to catch himself quickly before he let the growl that was lodged in his throat slip past his lips.

You were a beta, but you smelled different, sweeter. Better.

Oh boy, and he looked like human garbage.

You sat on the booth directly in front of him, rummaging for something in your ragged jean backpack. You looked up suddenly, the ghost of your bright smile still twinkling in your eyes. Dean was frozen on the spot, he had not been able to look away in time, and now he couldn’t look away at all.

Your smile dropped a fraction in confusion before you gave him a kind smile tinted with curiosity.

_Move, dumb-ass!_

The thought was so sudden and startling that Dean jolted in his seat, picking up his things in a rushed panic. He stood up, unable to look at you directly, and gave three hurried steps before remembering himself and going back to leave a few crumpled bills to pay for the meal and the coffee.

He could feel his face was bright red, he was embarrassed of his rugged appearance and weird behavior, sure that you thought he was a freak.

The first breath of fresh air when he went out the door was amazing.

-

“You’re the guy from the other day.”

Dean looked up, he had noticed you coming closer, but hadn’t expected you to actually talk to him.

You were sporting a shy smile that had him repressing the sudden urge to just get up and hug you.

“Um-” he said coherently.

He had actually showered today, thank god.

“You left this here” you dropped John’s hunter journal in front of him and Dean instantly perked up, tentative panic creeping up his spine. “Don’t worry, I didn’t read your diary” you smiled cheekily and he smirked back, his heart fluttering.

Jesus, where had all his charm gone? He felt completely off balance and that was never supposed to happen.

Maybe you were a succubus? The thought crossed his mind fleetingly and he almost groaned. He hoped you weren’t, but you were definitely too good to be true, and he had definitely fallen too fast for his liking. A succubus would explain it.

Or maybe his mate?

Now  _that_ thought he discarded immediately.

“You expect me to believe that you actually didn’t read it?” He smirked at you, tilting his head. You smiled brightly at him, a spark of amusement in your eye.

“I was tempted, but I didn’t want to invade your privacy” your smile was sharp, teasing, and Dean’s heart clenched.

“Hm” he said, noncommittally “so, what did you think of the third poem?”

You let out a surprised burst of laughter, covering your mouth immediately to giggle quietly.

You  _had_  to be a succubus, no human should look so good while giggle-snorting.

Still, he could not stop the dumb smile from forming on his face.

“Dean Winchester, nice to meet you” he extended his hand, the one with the silver and iron ring he had started to carry around. You shook his hand with a smile, and he let out a small sigh of relief.

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Nah, I’m just here for a few days” he tried not to react to the carefully hidden disappointment in your eyes.

“Oh?”

He smiled then, gesturing to the booth for you to sit down. If you weren’t a monster, then it was safe to talk to you, right?

After a while of talking and two cups of coffee the kind lady at the counter (Maggie?) finally came to the table to tell you they were closing down for lunch. She gave you both a look, lingering in a silent conversation with you, before leaving.

“You know, I never got your name”

You smiled, picking up your bag.

“I never gave it to you”

You hurried out the door before he could even say anything. And maybe he kind of secretly hoped you were his mate.

Dammit.

-

He saw you again almost every day after that. He admitted that maybe he stayed in town longer that necessary. Not for you though.

Honest.

You talked about everything, and it was surprisingly easy to not talk about hunting, even though his life consisted almost solely of that. You were great company, and he felt a little guilty for not thinking much about John while he was with you.

Somehow, he built a routine. Wake up, make coffee, search the journal or the internet or his own memory in search of a clue (he was starting to think he’d need to go get Sam, and he wasn’t sure he liked the idea), go to the diner and talk to you, maybe walk around the block. And then he went back to the motel, maybe went out for a ride in the impala.

He was falling in love with you, and that was dangerous, being a hunter in a relationship could only end in blood and tears. Dating you went against every instinct he had to protect you.

He started to worry when you weren’t at the diner one day. On the second day, he wondered how creepy it would be if he showed up at your apartment unannounced even though you had never told him your address.

He decided to show up anyway. Just to make sure you were alright. He had been careful, but who knows what might have followed him here.

He was careful of not being seen as he climbed the stairs and walked to your door.

Something felt wrong. And only a shitty hunter would ignore a bad feeling.

He pressed his ear to the door, straining to hear a any sound that may come from the inside.

He thought he heard a soft sound of pain and his heart immediately started beating faster.

He hadn’t planned on actually coming in. But fuck that, he was officially worried.

He fumbled for a moment before deciding to just kick the door down. He felt inexplicably dumb with adrenaline. He was supposed to be trained on this kind of thing, he could ignore the adrenaline rush and just do his job.

And yet his fingers felt clumsy and his tongue was too big in his mouth. A thin sheen of cold sweat made him feel icky in the many layered outfit he was wearing.

He hadn’t felt this panicked in a long time, and it had begun so suddenly that he felt unbalanced and clumsy.

He kicked the door twice before it caved. The lock breaking as he crashed in. He felt borderline feral, he had to make sure you were safe.

You cried out from inside the apartment, scared and in pain.

Dean rushed to the room, hands shaking as he quickly wrenched the door open.

That proved to be a mistake.

You were writhing on the rumpled bed sheets, covered in sweat and whining in pain.

Then the smell hit him like a gust of wind, strong and sweet and _his._

His omega.

His mate.

-

You gasp at the sight of him, you look delirious. And Dean takes a second to be concerned. If you had been like this for almost two days, had you eaten? Had you slept? Was someone taking care of you?

“Dean” it was meant to be a question, but it came out as a breathy moan.

He growled softly before he could control himself.

“Wha- oh god” you grit your teeth as you arched off the bed, letting a long, drawn out moan of pain. “It hurts” you gasped, uncaring of how pathetic you looked.

It felt as if he had been suddenly dowsed in cold water. A heavy stone of concern and protectiveness settling at the pit of his stomach.

He rushed to your side, trying to subtly breathe through his mouth. Not that it mattered, that just made the taste of your heat coat his tongue. His hands were shaking with the effort to keep it together.

“What can I do for you sweetheart? Just tell me, c'mon”

“I don’t-” a gasp that pulled at his heartstrings “I don’t know what’s going on.”

He had to do a double take at that. He thought you were a beta, but when he came in here and found you like _this_ , he had assumed that it had been suppressants that were masking your scent. He never thought to consider that maybe _you_  thought you were a beta as well.

“You know what a heat is right?” You nodded and he sighed in relief.

John had barely given him the talk, he didn’t know if he could deal with having to give  _you_  the talk while he was trying as hard as he could not to think about all the heat-related things his head was screaming at him to do.

“Um, Y/N, I think you’re an omega”

“No I’m not!” You gasped, scandalized. “I’m nineteen, and people are supposed to present at- oh lord, fucking hell this hurts like a goddamn bitch -sixteen, the latest.”

He chuckled in spite of himself, reaching out to touch your arm softly. Dean jumped when you moaned loudly and obscenely at the contact, curling into yourself to wrap around his arm.

There were a few seconds of shocked silence from both of you at the noise.

Dean cleared his throat, his pants tight.

“I think I’m an omega” you said quietly, hiding your face in embarrassment.

-

It was obvious to Dean that you were his mate. But you had only known you were an omega for approximately ten seconds, and you hadn’t known each other that long, he wasn’t about to force you to have sex with him, even if it did help your heat.

The problem was that he didn’t really know anything about taking care of an omega in heat. He knew about the sex, and that was about it.

He wasn’t entirely stupid though, he knew you needed to eat, but he didn’t know if there were things that would make it worse. Should he buy you chocolate? Or was that just for periods.

Sam was the kind of person that would know about this shit, but he certainly couldn’t call him.

He watched as you looked up at him, eyes watery and unfocused, and decided to just head to the drugstore and buy whatever he felt would help.

But first, cuddles. He knew that he wouldn’t be able to leave if he didn’t at least lay down with you for a while, he just hoped it would help with the pain.

He lay down next to you and you instantly curled into him like a cat, your head tucked under his chin.

You hummed and threw a leg over his. Dean gulped, trying to keep it together for your sake. You sighed, and your breath tickling his throat made him feel lightheaded.

After a few minutes, the pain seemed to have ebbed away, one glance at you had him smiling at your dopey, half asleep expression. Dean wanted to stay there forever, but he knew he had to leave soon before another wave of your heat hit you.

“Y/N” he whispered, shaking you gently. “Y/N I need to go get some food for you.”

“Food?” Oh god, your sleepy voice was adorable.

“Yeah, sweetheart. Let me up” he carded his fingers through your hair and you made a soft sound of pleasure. He stopped immediately.

“No” you mumbled.

He chuckled and started to untangle himself from you. You weren’t having any of that shit though, because before he could even react you made a short, petulant noise and stretched your neck up an inch to bite at the corner of his jaw.

Dean let out an embarrassing high-pitched whine.

Both of you froze, none of you saying anything until Dean cleared his throat about three times and got up to leave, avoiding your gaze. You didn’t try to stop him this time.

He took a moment to adjust himself in his jeans before leaving.

-

He tried to close your door the best he could, but he still wanted to be quick, he had busted the lock when he came in, and he didn’t want anyone anywhere near you while you were in heat.

He felt antsy, he really didn’t like leaving you alone while you were so vulnerable, but he had checked your fridge, and your pantry, and they were both practically empty.

He walked to a drugstore that was about four blocks away, he had bought some bandages when he arrived in town and he was glad he’d noticed it.

By the time he got there Dean’s mind was swimming, he was making a list in his head, but he had never paid much attention to heat products before.

He was anxious, power walking along the isles trying to look like he knew what he was doing.

“Can I help you?”

Dean looked back, startled. Coming face to face with a teenage employee, who looked like she was trying to hide a smirk. He hadn’t even noticed that there was someone behind him.

“Uh… I’m good thanks” Dean jammed his hands into his pockets, trying not to look lost.

This time the girl did smirk.

“You sure there pal? You look a little lost.”

Dean grimaced, realizing too late that he was standing right in front of a row of tampons.

“Maybe I could use a little help” she grinned at him and Dean huffed “you don’t need to be so smug about it though.”

She ignored him completely and picked up a metal basket from the end of the isle.

“So, how heavy is her flow?”

Dean’s face hurt when his cheeks flamed bright red.

“Oh, uhm, she isn’t-” he sputtered, gesturing awkwardly.

She waited patiently, eyebrow raised in amusement. She was enjoying this way too much and it was starting to piss Dean off. He didn’t need to take shit from a sixteen year old that cut her own bangs.

“It’s not,  _that_. My mate’s in heat and it’s her first. I don’t really know what to get her.”

The girls eyes narrowed at that. She assessed him again, more thoroughly this time. Dean tried not to shift uncomfortably under her gaze.

“How old is she?”

“Nineteen, we actually thought she was a beta” he explained, he wanted her to stop looking at him like he had done something bad.

It worked, because her expression softened again as she shifted into business mode. “Oh no problem, my dude. My sister’s an omega, and she presented when she was nearly eighteen. Tell you what, you go and get a box of fruit salad and stuff she likes to eat, nothing too heavy, and I’ll put a basket together for ya. A heat kit.” She smiled at his shocked expression and shooed him away.

Dean, too shocked to question her, did as he was told and moved to the fridges. He got two boxes of salad, one fruits and one veggies, and a bottle of iced tea. He grabbed a few packets of saltines and some granola bars, then made his way to the counter.

The girl was already there, taking stuff out of the basket.

“So, I got ya some pills for the pain, massage oil, scent spray, for the room, a cold compress, aaand-” she heaved a huge bottle from inside the basket “a shit ton of Gatorade.”

She smiled at him, showing teeth “and don’t worry about her too much, it looks worse than it feels.”

Dean sighed in relief “I can’t thank you enough.”

She shrugged and started ringing him up “as long as you pay before leaving I’m good.”

-

The bags were heavy but Dean walked quickly anyway. He was huffing and puffing when he finally got to the top of the stairs, rushing to your apartment and only feeling at ease when he was inside with the door closed behind him.

You were on the bed, shivering and whimpering softly. He brought the bags closer to the bed, smiling softly when he sat down and yo immediately latched onto his back.

“You smell good” you mumbled, eyes closed still.

“Oh yeah?” He asked, taking all the items out.

“Like leather, and whiskey, and mint? I think it’s mint. It’s nice.”

“I’m glad” he smiled turning around and opening the fruit salad. He fed it to you in small bites with a plastic fork, first a piece of orange, then a grape, diced strawberry, a slice of apple. You hummed, chewing slowly and gifting him with a dazzling smile when he threw a blueberry at you and you caught it with your mouth.

You managed to eat about half of the salad and take a few sips of Gatorade before your face screwed up in discomfort.

“I brought you some pills for that” he said, rubbing up and down your back before reaching down into the bag.

You made a noise of interest, perking up and making grabby hands at him when he got the small box. You popped out a pill and washed it down with another sip of Gatorade. You lay back down with a soft hum after a moment. “Oh god yes, I love drugs” Dean laughed at you and got back in the bed to cuddle some more.

You tucked your head under his chin, stroking delicate patterns on his chest with the tip of your finger. Dean tried his best to stop himself from purring like a damn cat. He failed.

“You’re my mate, aren’t you?” You whispered, Dean could only nod, a little nervous about your reaction. “That’s good, I mean, I’m glad” you looked up at him, absolutely enchanting with that small sweet smile, and Dean’s heart soared.

He hadn’t really thought he would get this, ever. And it was kind of scary. He wanted to be good for you. Chivalrous and sweet and everything you deserved. You obviously hadn’t talked about anything like this, about mates and heats and all those things. And Dean had literally burst in here, not exactly easing you into anything. The last thing he wanted to do was scare you, but how was he going to resist spending your heat with you when you smelled so enticing? The last thing he wanted was to force you to do anything you weren’t absolutely sure you wanted to do.

He suppressed a groan when you pressed against him, your scent hitting him like a sucker punch.

“Uh, we can watch a movie if you want, while we wait for it to pass.” He knew that was ridiculous, heats lasted at least a few days. But he felt a need to say something anyway, anything to distract him from his currently growing… problem. It was a little embarrassing.

“Or-” you climbed on top of him seductively, your scent growing stronger and your pupils dilating. “You could help me with my heat the proper way,  _mate_ ”

Dean could only swallow, his voice coming out weird and high pitched when he spoke.

“Okay, yeah, that sounds good too.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can also find me on Tumblr @soopranatural


End file.
